Take Me To Church
by Brightki
Summary: Father Tom Riddle finds himself inappropriately distracted by his young parishioner, Hermione Granger. (Modern/Non-Magic AU. NOT for the faint of heart. Full Warning Inside.)


A/N: **Read with caution!**

This came to me one day when Hozier's "Take Me to Church" came on the radio. This is kind of dark, especially for me! It's definitely not fluffy. Sacrilegious and full of questionable actions, past and present. I have a few spare rosaries if you need one. I lay most of the blame for this seeing the light of day at Shayalonnie's feet.

This is ~2k of hellfire. Seriously - please don't read it unless you're prepared!

* * *

 _My church offers no absolutes_

 _She tells me, "Worship in the bedroom."_

 _The only heaven I'll be sent to_

 _Is when I'm alone with you_

. . . o O o . . .

Stepping into the nave of St. Hedwig's, Father Tom pauses for a moment to trail his long, pale fingers through the still water of the baptismal font. The faint, lingering scent of incense invades his senses as he draws in a deep, slow breath in through his nose.

Crossing himself, he steps into the church, walking steadily down the main aisle. Tucking his hands into his sleeves, counting each swing and tap of his rosary against his thigh, Tom's steps falter when he notices the slight figure kneeling in one of the pews at the very front of the church.

That riotous, curly hair – _the color of coffee and chocolate with streaks of caramel_ – only belongs to one person on earth, and just the sight of her makes his heart begin to pound.

He has been a priest for twenty years and never once had the mere sight of another person caused his heart to skip a beat. Growing up in a boy's orphanage, run by priests, had never allowed him to interact with many females besides the few much older women who would occasionally come through and do any cooking or cleaning that they boys or the priests couldn't manage on a daily basis.

But _this_ girl.

The first time he had met Hermione Granger, she was only eleven. Buck-toothed and frizzy haired, his passing and only thought upon introduction to her and her parents was that the girl was hopefully an ugly duckling. There were no inappropriate feelings or thoughts about such a child.

Until she came back from her time away at school in her fourteenth year. She had blossomed and grown, beginning to fill out as every young woman does. The first mass that the Granger family attended, as she approached to take communion – going so far as to step away from her parents in order to approach _him_ – he felt the twist in his gut as she looked into his eyes and opened her mouth to receive the wafer directly from his hand.

She had then smiled as her lips close, a flash of _something_ undecipherable in her brown eyes, before turning and walking away.

Tom felt something that day that had, until that moment, almost completely avoided him – the dark shiver of arousal.

It had continued this way for a couple of years, every Sunday and every mass when she was home from school. Their eyes would lock as soon as they were within a few meters of one another, and she would give him that sweet devil's smile. She would approach with her hands clasped to her chest, rosary beads entangled with her fingers, and her mouth would open for the communion, small pink tongue arching just enough to draw his attention. With trembling hands, he would place the wafer in her mouth, and she would withdraw, still smiling.

It wasn't until she was entering her seventeenth year, with his almost every thought circling around the young woman, that everything fell apart. She had approached him late one afternoon with some question about volunteering at the church's annual clothing collection for the needy… when their control finally broke.

Approaching her kneeling form now, Tom could only draw in a deep breath as her head turns, and she flashes _that_ smile at him. He's fairly sure that smile is the same that Delilah bestowed upon Samson in order to lure him into her bed chamber and spill his precious secrets.

Tom leans in towards Hermione slightly, murmuring despite the empty church, "Miss Granger, welcome back."

"Thank you, Father. My first year at university was very fulfilling." She takes a deep breath, smiling as his eyes flicker to her swelling breasts, before moving back to her face. "Though I have to admit that I have missed this church. It's so familiar and enticing."

His head tilts as he licks his lips, one long-fingered hand curling around the top of the pew as he stares down into her eyes. "Enticing? I don't believe anyone has every described the church as enticing before."

"Perhaps not as enticing, but certainly there is a parallel between genuine religious experience and the sexual. St. Teresa herself described the experience of God's touch as a golden spear thrusting into her heart, with such great pain as to make her _moan_ and yet the 'sweetness of such excessive pain' was such that she could not wish to be rid of it." Hermione's brown eyes travel over his frock, lingering on his rosary, before moving up to his face again as she licks her lips. "That is certainly… enticing imagery."

Tom shudders at the heat in her eyes as she gazes up at him, his fingers clutching the pew until his knuckles are white. "Hermione…"

Then she smiles and stands suddenly, her breasts grazing his abdomen, sliding up along his tall form and pressing into his chest. He hisses softly at her touch, one hand reaching out and grasping her upper arm as he takes a small step back.

She steps closer to him again as she murmurs, her lips grazing the rough cloth of his clothing at his shoulder, "Would you show me the sacristy, Father? I haven't been into the depths of the church since my day as an altar server." She pulls back just enough to look up into his eyes.

The dark fire in those eyes causes his cock to swell and pulse in his trousers, and his fingers dig into the soft bare skin of her arm. Tom's eyes flick down, just now taking in the thin straps of her pale cotton sundress. The dark shadow of her areola and hardened nipples strain the buttons across her breasts, and the skirt ends well above her knees, exposing swaths of smooth, tanned skin the shade of lightly milked coffee.

With a hiss, he drags her closer, his fingers flexing around her arm before he pulls her towards the altar. Making their way around the elevated platform, with his free hand he digs out the keys to the door hidden by a section of wall. Unlocking the door, he ushers Hermione through before he follows, closing and locking the door behind him again before reaching out and flicking the light on.

As soon as the light comes on, Hermione's arms have twined around his neck, and her lush lips are pressed hard to his. After a moment of shock, Tom wraps his arms around her and drags her closer, forcing his tongue between her lips, finally tasting her again for the first time in months.

She moans into his mouth as she circles her hips, grinding against the solid bulge of his cock through their clothing. Whimpering, she curls her fingers into his shoulders, holding onto him tightly as his hands slide down her back until they've cupped her arse.

He squeezes, kneading her flesh beneath her dress, before he works his hands lower, tugging the skirt up and sliding along her warm skin until he reaches her hips. Tom groans into her mouth as he realizes that she's missing her knickers, and his fingers find nothing but hot smooth skin.

With a groan, Tom twists his hand around and burrows two fingers into her cunt. Hermione cries out, muffled by his mouth on hers, and shudders almost violently as his fingers begin to thrust into her, withdrawing to thrust in again. His thumb, already soaked with her juices, circles and slides along her clit, eliciting a whimper from the writhing girl.

Hermione arches, her mouth breaking away from his as her head falls back between her shoulders while her hips push into his hand as he continues to fuck her with his fingers.

One hand clutching his shoulder, the other wiggles down between their bodies and, with a great deal of impatient shoving and tugging, finally manages to get into his frock. Pushing it out of her way and then quickly unzipping his trousers, she finally slides into his pants to grasp his swollen cock.

Tom redoubles his efforts as her warm little hand curls around his shaft, his thumb working against her clit and fingers thrusting into her sheath until she shudders and, pressing her mouth against his shoulder, bites down on the cloth to bury her cry as her orgasm washes over her.

Withdrawing his hand quickly, he spins her around and moves her bodily a short distance across the room until she's laying across the sacristy credens – the short, wide vestments storage cabinet – and with a tug on her hips and the push of his hips, his cock is buried completely into her pussy.

Hermione cries out, her fingers scrabbling at the bare top of the credens as Tom begins to fuck her, his fingers digging into her hips and surely leaving behind marks that will become bruises from the tight grip.

He pulls back and thrusts in again and again, hard and fast. He is still fully dressed except for his exposed cock, and she can feel the brush of his robes on her bare legs, and the slap of his rosary against her thigh with each thrust causes her to moan and whine into her arm in an attempt to keep from screaming.

He grunts, his pace quickening and becoming uneven as he feels his balls begin to tighten with his approaching orgasm before he pulls away suddenly. She cries out at the loss, laying on top of the credens for only another moment before she backs away and quickly falls to her knees in front of him.

Looking up at him, his hand wrapped around the base of his cock and the tip swollen and purple, she then grips his hips and thrusts her mouth down his length. Tom gasps out, his free hand twisting and clutching at her hair as she begins to suck and lick at his cock. He groans aloud, his head falling back as she draws him again and again into her mouth, simulating the same motions as just moments previously until he's buried completely down her throat.

Hermione whimpers around his thick flesh, slick with her own spit, and continues sucking at him until she feels him swell and throb with his orgasm. She pulls back and opens her mouth just as he begins to come, each thick blast hitting her tongue until it has filled her mouth, and a small trickle makes its way down her chin.

Watching her swallow his come then lean forward and proceed to lick his shaft clean of their combined fluids, Tom shudders, and hisses out a breath as he cradles her head. His fingers stroke her hair, pushing it from her face as she places one last kiss at the top of his now softened cock before she stands.

Hermione reaches up and wipes the bit of come from her face, looking at it with a lingering smile before she looks up and meets his gaze and proceeds to lick her fingers clean.

Tom draws in a deep breath, his eyes narrowing at her in reproof as he tucks himself back into his pants and works on straightening his clothes, while she continues to stand there with her bare, swollen cunt displayed blatantly to his eyes. He reaches out, and none too lightly slaps her clit, causing her hips to jerk and a soft cry to spill from her lips before he pulls her skirt down and tugs it back into place.

"That was not very nice, Father." Her swollen pink lip sticks out in a pout as she looks up at him.

Arching a brow at her, he shakes his head. "You're the one licking my come from your fingers and teasing me further, girl. You're practically begging for more of a spanking."

 _That_ smile pulls on her lips, and she takes one step closer as she draws in a deep breath. "A spanking? Oh, please, sir… I've been a terribly bad girl." Brown eyes gleaming, she reaches out and strokes her fingers down along his rosary.

Tom watches her before smirking and, reaching out, curls his hand in her hair and pulls it back sharply. "I think you're looking to volunteer in the office again this summer, child. I need quite a bit of assistance in updating my records, I have found."

Hermione whimpers softly as she looks up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. "Of course, Father. I can spare as much time as you may need me. I will be at your beck and call."

He chuckles softly, causing her to sigh softly and press herself against his front. Leaning down, he kisses her forehead, his lips lingering and soft on her skin before he steps back. "God bless you, child." He reaches up and strokes the sign of the cross along her forehead before he smirks again. "Be here tomorrow at two."

She sways towards him with a soft moan at his touch, before she straightens herself with a sigh. "Yes, Father, I am so looking forward to it."

Together they turn and leave the room, turning off the lights and locking the door, before slowly walking from the church and out into the bright afternoon sunshine.


End file.
